


Please remember

by thegirl20



Series: Domestic bliss (Jill/Lindsay) [5]
Category: Women's Murder Club (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-26
Updated: 2013-01-26
Packaged: 2017-11-26 23:36:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/655641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegirl20/pseuds/thegirl20
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An alternate look at episode 1.05 (Maybe baby).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Please remember

“You know the media’s not allowed to take pictures up here.”  
  
Cindy glanced at Claire and rolled her eyes, making a little huffing sound in her throat. Surely Claire knew by now that rules and regulations were not enough to stop Cindy Thomas? She was about to make a retort to that effect when her ears picked up on a faint sound. She grabbed Claire’s arm, pulling her to a halt and  _‘ssshhing’_  her.  
  
“I’m just sayin’!” Claire said, surprised at Cindy’s reaction.  
  
Cindy waited until Claire had picked up on her meaning and both women proceeded on tiptoe to the source of the sound. They peeked into the hospital room to an arresting sight; Deputy DA Jill Bernhardt was singing softly to a tiny baby. Cindy smiled and snapped a picture before Jill even realised that she had company.  
  
At the sound of the camera shutter, Jill looked up abruptly.  
  
“Don’t let us stop you,” Claire said, her voice rich with amusement.  
  
“Lindsay  _never_  sees that picture,” Jill said, casting a warning glare at Cindy.  
  
Claire bustled past Cindy and made a beeline for the crib.   
  
“Oh come on, you look adorable!” Cindy protested.  
  
Jill looked back at Cindy, almost shyly. For the first time since she’d met her, Cindy saw uncertainty in the lawyer’s eyes. Cindy filed the information in her brain to press Jill on later. Because, suddenly, all of Jill’s protests about having children seemed flimsy. Seeing her in that moment, Cindy was convinced that Jill would love to have children, but was held back by…something.  
  
“This little girl looks like she’s ‘bout ready to go home,” Claire cooed over the squirming infant.   
  
Jill and Cindy turned to look at the tiny pink bundle, Jill’s moment of vulnerability unsettling for both of them.  
  
“Wherever that is,” Cindy said, her heart heavy with worry for the kid.  
  
“She belongs with her grandparents.”  
  
All eyes turned to Lindsay as she entered the room, followed closely by the grieving grandparents. Jill hurriedly vacated her place by the side of the crib to allow the Williams space to bond with their granddaughter. Retreating to a polite distance, the women stood to watch the touching scene. Jill was watching a different scene; the one which played out across Lindsay’s expressive features. She reached out and laced her fingers through Lindsay’s, holding on tightly. Claire squeezed Lindsay’s waist as Cindy took a picture of the new family.  
  
“You done good,” Claire murmured.  
  
Lindsay smiled. Jill found herself unable to ignore the obvious.  
  
“Murdered father, mother in jail…she’s gonna have a lot to deal with growing up,” she said.  
  
“She’s got two people in her life who care more about her than anything in the world, I’d say that’s a good place to start,” Lindsay said, her tone unreadable.  
  
Part of Jill felt like she was being told off, another part told her to suck it up and be there for Lindsay, in spite of her own issues with family and childhood. She leaned in closer to Lindsay.  
  
“I’m guessing you need a drink.”  
  
Lindsay looked at her for a long moment before smiling sadly.  
  
“I just wanna go home,” she said, finally.  
  
Jill nodded.  
  
“Then let’s go home.”  
  
*  
  
After ensuring that Martha was fed, walked and watered, Jill and Lindsay retired to the couch. Lindsay flicked on the TV and found an old black and white movie playing. Jill threw her legs over Lindsay’s lap and rested her head on Lindsay’s shoulder. They sat in silence, Lindsay running her hand idly up and down Jill’s leg.  
  
The buzzer sounded, startling both of them. Lindsay glanced at her watch.  
  
“It’s after eleven,” she said, needlessly.  
  
“I’ll get it,” Jill said, disentangling herself from the warmth of their position.  
  
She headed into the hallway and opened the door, leaving the chain on.   
  
“Tom.”   
  
For some reason, she wasn’t surprised to see him there. Jill closed the door enough to allow her to undo the chain and open the door fully. Tom took a step backwards as she did so.  
  
“Jill…uh…I was…is Lindsay in?”  
  
“Sure, come on in, she’s in the living-room.”  
  
“Tom?”  
  
Upon hearing his voice, Lindsay had come out into the hallway. They stood in an awkward triangle.  
  
“Lindsay…I uh, I just wanted to let you know that Dale the slimeball isn’t gonna press charges.”  
  
Lindsay raised an eyebrow.   
  
“You could’ve called to tell me that.”  
  
Jill looked between them, knowing fine well that Tom hadn’t come to talk about Dale.  
  
“We were just about to have a nightcap, Tom. Scotch?” Jill asked.  
  
Tom looked surprised by the offer. So did Lindsay.  
  
“Well…I don’t want to impose…”  
  
Jill closed the door and ushered Tom into the living room, avoiding Lindsay’s questioning expression.  
  
“Take a seat and I’ll be back in a sec with the drinks.”  
  
She busied herself pouring whisky in the kitchen, listening to Tom and Lindsay making small talk about how Tom had managed to ‘encourage’ the idiot who Lindsay had punched earlier in the day not to pursue the case. She picked up two glasses and headed back into the living room. She handed a glass to Tom and one to Lindsay. Lindsay placed hers on the coffee table and grasped Jill’s arm.  
  
“You not drinking?” she asked, worry evident in her voice.  
  
Jill shrugged.  
  
“Nah, I’m beat. I think I’ll turn in for the night and leave the two of you to talk shop.”  
  
Jill leaned in and placed a chaste kiss on Lindsay’s lips.  
  
“Don’t stay up too late,” she added, rubbing Lindsay’s arm. “G’night Tom.”  
  
And without a backward glance Jill walked to the bedroom, Martha padding along beside her, praying that she’d done the right thing.  
  
*  
  
Lindsay looked at the top of Tom’s head. He was staring into his Scotch, evidently feeling as awkward as she was. She sighed and retrieved her glass from the table before flopping down into an armchair. Tom looked up.  
  
“You doin’ OK?”  
  
Lindsay shrugged.  
  
“Never been better.”  
  
He smiled, humorlessly.  
  
“OK, fine. I just…I wanted you to know that I’m here if you want to talk.”  
  
“I don’t.”  
  
The words were out of her mouth before she even knew if they were true or not. He stood up and walked a few steps before turning to face her.  
  
“Have you talked to Jill?”  
  
“That’s none of your business.”  
  
He regarded her for a moment, his jaw tense with frustration.  
  
“As your boss…as your  _friend_ , I wanna make sure that you’re talking to somebody about it.”  
  
She leaned forward, placing her glass back on the table and rubbing her face with both hands. Then she started speaking.  
  
“OK. Look, lots of first pregnancies don't work out. Ours didn't. It's nobody's  _fault_. Nobody's a failure. Just happens.“   
  
“Yeah, I know,” he said softly, not wanting to say anything to prevent her continuing.  
  
“And it was  _years_  ago,” she said, turning to look at him.  
  
“Yeah, and we both went back to work three days later.”  
  
“Sure as hell beat stayin' home,” she muttered, staring at her hands.  
  
She glanced at the clock, her eyes falling on a framed picture of her and Jill laughing. She sighed.  
  
“I need to get to bed.”  
  
He nodded, but made no move to leave.  
  
“Working this case with you today...you think you put something away and then you realise...it's still with you,” his words hung heavy in the air. “I'm gonna go.”  
  
And when he said it she realised she didn’t want him to go. Not yet. She stood, shoving her hands deep into her back pockets.  
  
“You know...I read in a magazine somewhere that the Japanese have a ceremony when…what happened to us happens.”  
  
He nodded.  
  
“There's...uh, music and…and toys and...” her voice was faltering.  
  
He reached out impulsively to caress her face, she held his hand against her cheek briefly and brought it down, keeping hold of it as she continued to speak.  
  
“…pretty little…umbrellas. The uh, parents ask the spirits to take their baby to a better world.”   
  
“A better world,” he whispered, not trusting his own voice.  
  
She looked at him, her eyes wet with grief. He pulled her into his arms, his hand moving to cradle the back of her head.  
  
“Sounds nice,” he said.  
  
She clung to him, her nose buried in his shoulder, inhaling his scent. The embrace was familiar and soothing. She drank in the comfort that she’d shunned all those years ago.  
  
He pulled back slightly, his nose brushing hers. She looked at him questioningly.  
  
“Tom?”  
  
He pressed his lips to hers. She turned away, pulling out of his hold.  
  
“No.”  
  
He jumped back as if he’d been stung. Lindsay’s hand was covering her mouth, her arm across her stomach.  
  
“I…Lindsay I am so sorry.”  
  
She nodded, not looking in his direction.  
  
“I’m gonna go.”  
  
And this time he did go. She waited until she heard the door close before going into the hallway. She locked the door and put the chain back on. Then she leaned her head against the wood and closed her eyes.  
  
*  
  
The bedroom was in darkness, but there was enough moonlight for her to make out Jill’s silhouette on the bed. Martha’s head popped up for a moment to check who had come in but she quickly settled back down in her basket.   
  
Lindsay changed quietly before approaching the bed. She sat down on the edge, elbows on her knees, head in her hands. The bed creaked and a gentle hand came to rub her back.  
  
“You getting in?” Jill asked, her voice clearly demonstrating that she hadn’t been asleep.  
  
“Yeah, in a sec,” she replied, trying to stem the flare of panic and guilt in her chest.  
  
After a few moments, Lindsay climbed under the covers. Jill kept some distance between them, her hand still resting on Lindsay’s hip.  
  
“I’m not gonna ask if you’re OK, because I know you’re not,” Jill said.  
  
Lindsay moved closer and pulled Jill into her arms. She pressed her lips to Jill’s neck and let her face rest in the warm crook of her shoulder. Jill’s hand ran rhythmically up and down her back.  
  
“He kissed me,” Lindsay whispered.  
  
Jill tensed slightly, but her hand never stopped its comforting motion. She didn’t speak, waiting for Lindsay to say more.  
  
“I was…we were talking about the…the uh…miscarriage…and he hugged me.”  
  
There were tears in Lindsay’s voice, Jill pressed closer to her.  
  
“…and then he looked and me, and I knew he was gonna do it and I could’ve…I should’ve stopped him.”  
  
Lindsay pulled back, needing to look into Jill’s eyes as she said the next part.  
  
“I pushed him away. I didn’t kiss him back. “  
  
Jill swept some of Lindsay’s dark hair away from her face, running her knuckles over Lindsay’s jaw, unconsciously mirroring Tom’s earlier actions.  
  
“You wanted to, though.”  
  
Lindsay flinched away from Jill’s touch.  
  
“What? No I didn’t. I came in here to you which should show tha-“  
  
“Sssshhhhh,” Jill said, gently placing two fingers over Lindsay’s mouth. “What I meant was that he was there and he understood what you were going through, and you wanted that kind of comfort, you needed it.”  
  
Lindsay lay in silence, Jill’s fingers still on her lips.  
  
“I can’t give you that level of understanding, Linds, but I can be here for you in any way you need me to be. If you want to talk, we’ll talk. If you want me to hold you, I’ll hold you. Just tell me what you want.”  
  
Lindsay brought her hand up to cover Jill’s, placing a soft kiss on her fingers before pulling them away from her mouth and holding them over her heart. She regarded Jill in the darkened room; the moon seeming to highlight Jill’s pale beauty, not diminish it.  
  
“We never talk about having kids.”  
  
It wasn’t strictly true. The ‘K word’ was occasionally raised, generally to get a reaction out of Jill. But they had never seriously discussed the issue. Their jobs didn’t easily lend themselves to child-rearing so they hadn’t had the time to seriously consider it.  
  
“No, we don’t,” Jill agreed. “Do you want to talk about having kids?”  
  
“I don’t know,” Lindsay said, honestly.  
  
“Because…Linds, you know I…I’m not sure that…”  
  
“I know,” Lindsay assured her. “And I don’t want to talk about it tonight. But maybe one day we should have the K-word conversation for real, huh? So that we know where we stand.”  
  
Jill audibly sighed in relief and Lindsay chuckled. She squeezed Jill’s hand before letting it go and pulling Jill closer, her head coming to rest on Lindsay’s chest. Jill lay for a while, content to listen to the steady beat of Lindsay’s heart. She turned her head and pressed a kiss to Lindsay’s collar bone.  
  
“Thank you for not kissing Tom back.”  
  
“You’re welcome,” Lindsay said, her voice rumbling with amusement.  
  
“I wouldn’t have…well, I mean…I would’ve understood.”  
  
“I’ll keep that in mind the next time an ex-fiancé lays one on me.”  
  
Jill smiled against Lindsay’s warm, soft skin.  
  
“I love you.”  
  
Lindsay’s arm tightened around her shoulders.   
  
“Love you too.”


End file.
